


can't hold back, reachin' out (i was livin' in the heat in the moment)

by plannedserviceinterruption



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot Collection, incomplete plots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:45:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3222872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plannedserviceinterruption/pseuds/plannedserviceinterruption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Incomplete plots. </p><p>One shots.</p><p>Tropes.</p><p>Etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't hold back, reachin' out (i was livin' in the heat in the moment)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm almost done the chapters of the rest of my other fics, but what can you do when a plot bunny hits you, you know?
> 
> Some of these may be continued in the future.
> 
> Like always, unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"Hey." Darcy greets, tentatively.

Bucky's eye opens, the one that is not covered in gauze, but still bloodshot. Darcy winces at the hazy look behind them. Immediately, she crosses the short distance between them and pauses beside the sterilized hospital bed.

"Hi, gorgeous," his speech is slurred and if she didn't want to cry hysterically so much, she's positive that she would be making fun of him right now. Taking a glance at the IV bag set up beside his position, she guesses whatever it is, is numbing the pain. But still, it makes her form a watery smile.

"Hey,” she repeats, “how are you feeling?"

She leans close and runs a hand gingerly down the side of his face. She brushes the back of her hand down his bristly jaw and he leans into it, closing his one good eye. The doctors and nurses have done an immense job on his face, stitches crawl down the side of his face and into his hair line. She can't see where it ends and she doesn't want to know. She can tell he's shirtless underneath the blanket, but she doesn't want to pry considering it's the only thing that is comforting him.

"Like shit," he murmurs and she takes her hand from his bristly jaw then to his messy hair. He conjures an approving noise and tilts closer.

She hums, using her leg to drag the plastic chair that is behind her closer to her.

"So, Steve is gonna be pissed."

Bucky grunts and makes a distressed sound when she stops so she can drag her purse down her arm. She resumes after setting her purse on the plastic chair. He sighs, his body becoming less and less tense as she runs through his hair continuously.

"Steve's be pissed either way. Couldn't let the bomb explode, couldn't let it get away. Yelled at me for a good two hours. Finally left to get food. Are you going to yell at me too?"

She shakes her head, brushing hair away from his face, "I'm letting you off the hook right now, but once you're lucid and less injured, I'm going to yell at you, okay?"

He laughs, split lips wide in a grin, and then seizes as he coughs uncontrollably, "don't make me laugh, sweetheart."

The endearment makes her heart clench while her eyes water achingly at the sound of his waxy breathing.

"I lied. God, how can you be such an idiot?" she wipes her angry tears and his eye slips open again at her damp voice.

"Sweetheart-"

"Don't. I thought you were dead, Bucky! I thought you  _were dead._ When I got a call from Medical, I thought I had to come and identify the body. I thought- I-I watched it go off." she takes a shaky breath to stable herself.

He gently takes her hand that has been buried deeply in his hair and pulls her forward so she has to be on her tippy toes reaching over the side railings of the bed.

"Come here."

"What?"

He pulls her forward and she braces herself against the bed. 

"Get up here."

"I'm not having sex with you when you're half dead!"

"Baby, I'm half alive. And I'm not having sex with you either. Come here."

He scoots backwards slowly, like it's agonizing for him to move. But there's also room for her now but she still hesitates, refusing to climb on.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me, but if you don't get your cute ass up here, I will be." there's a pout in his voice, like the ones that he delivered every time she said no to him when he was first chasing her. But now, he's in a hospital bed, half dying with more stitches and bruises that Darcy's ever had in her whole life.

Biting her lips, she eyes the spot dubiously to fit her and then puts a tilted knee on the mattress before pushing her whole body onto the tall bed. She twists, laying on her side carefully with her back to his warm front, attempting to leave space so she wouldn't uncomfortably squish against him. The endeavour is difficult, as the bed is fit for one person and Bucky already taking most of the surface area. While not fully succeeding, she leaves enough of gap so she isn't lying directly on him. That safe motion is scrapped however, when he slips his heavy left arm under her waist and pulls her flush against his chest. He groans and and Darcy pulls away swiftly.

"Tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?"

He threads his hand through her hair and the other around around her waist, "With you by my side, never."

She snorts and laughs, dispelling the heavy tension she feels accumulating, "that was the worst line."

He snuffs his face into the back of her head and she can feel the murmur of his mouth, "No, it wasn't."

They lapse into a silence, the kind not unlike the aftermath of a storm, with an indiscernible amount of uncertainty but with guaranteed safety when the final shockwaves have passed. Closing her eyes, she reassures herself that he's alive and takes his metal hand and squeezes. He squeezes back.

The thought of losing him terrifies her, and she knows that they've had near misses more often than not. But never like this, with him on the hospital bed, bandaged and stitched up like Frankenstein. Just thinking of how screwed up today went makes her hurt a little more. The close calls have never been so close. It's not like she unaware of the high risks of his dangerous job. She's been prepared for this. For the degree of injuries or the long hospital stays. The daily reminders that her boyfriend's job was to save the world.

But what she isn't ready for is the fact that he could just stop being there so suddenly, so quick and she knows she won't be ready for it. She doesn't know if she would ever be. And she knows it's selfish,  _so selfish_. And she can't help it, but she'd rather have him than not at all.

She taps an unhurried pattern along the knuckle of his index finger, each _ting_ grounding her. Thinking of the future gives her anxiety, like sitting on the edge of a rollercoaster right before the big drop or holding your breath as you watch someone jump out of an airplane.

He presses his lips on the crown of her hair, unruly from fret in the waiting room. The unusual quietness of her compels him to ask.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

She hesitates, but then carries on, "You suck." she admits quietly, "you suck because I thought you were dead and I couldn't do anything about it. And you were gone-”

"Darce-"

"I was scared that you were gone and I won't be prepared when you are."

"Darcy-" 

At the sound of her name, whispered against her shoulders, she breaks. She bites down on her lips and cages the shuddering breaths. He almost died and she's sure that he doesn't her smothering concern over their future while he lays there with varying degrees of pain from a _fucking bomb._

"But I'm alive. I'm here." he tightens his arm around her and she squeezes his arm, "I'm here."  
  
He adjusts her so she's facing him, but she slides her eyes closed the moment she faces him. It feels so odd, feeling ripped open when she's not the one with the stitches littering her body.

Brushing her hair away, he thumbs the corners of her eyes. She opens them languidly at his soft touch. He takes her hands, fingernails bitten and purple nail polish chipped, and places it against his heart right above a recently healed jagged scar.

"You feel that?" she does, the solid heartbeat under his ribcage, "I'm here. I'm not dead."

At his soft regard, she closes her eyes and presses a kiss at his jaw,  "I know."

He softly exhales and she presses another kiss on his chin and then his temple and over his bandaged eye. She presses kisses onto the parts of him she can reach, reminding herself that he's here. He wraps his left arm tighter and she brings herself closer in harmony, content on lining herself against him.

**

"Excuse me, Miss."

Darcy's being shaken, her head lulls to the side and she opens her bleary eyes.

"Wha-what?"

A brunette nurse has a puckered frown on her forehead, her disapproving look makes Darcy blink slowly.

"Miss. You're not supposed to be here. Visiting hours are from 4 pm to 8 pm."

Darcy lifts her arm, the watch says it's 2:46 AM. She's been asleep for a few hours but even she knows sleep can only do so much for her. Although she's been resting, she cannot feel any discernible difference in her energy levels. Rolling over, she checks on Bucky. Either he's still asleep, or schooling himself to be. His features soft, no tension puckering his forehead with his metal arm heavy on her stomach. She considers moving but thinks better when she remembered how much of his body was injured.

"Okay, I'm not moving, he's almost was killed today-"

The last of her words and swallowed in her squeak, his hand leisurely glides up, tickles her rib cage and cups her breast. He nuzzles deeply into her neck, a blissful smile taped to his lips. Immediately, she knows by experience that he wasn't faking it. Bucky was awake.

Her cheeks heat up at the nurse's scandalized look and she inwardly curses Bucky's current state. Squeezing his arm, Darcy squirms gently but stops when he rolls them over.

"Bucky!" she hisses.

That does nothing to stop him, and irritatingly and  _not cute at all_ , he opens his blue eyes and smiles crookedly. His body blocks her view, but he cranes his head to talk to the irritated nurse. Darcy snakes her hand and pinches the skin above his hip.

"Can't a dying man have his lady in his bed? Fulfilling his last wish of having something pretty to look at while he takes his last breath?"

She can't see his face now, but she's sure that he's employing the pouty lipped, doe eyed look. The one that he uses when he's doing something terrible but is not willing to admit it. Still, she's glad that his eyes seem clear and his words aren't slurring.

"No," is the nurse's clipped response, "You're hardly dying."

Bucky gasps, outraged, "I am. I can feel it, the light is coming. Is that Jesus Almighty? Must be!"

She pinches him again for making the nurse's job so much more difficult, and he captures her hand in his this time. Pressing it to his chest, he lowers it, glides down his hard abdomen, past the oblique of his hips and then to his crotch, where she can tell he's already half hard through his pants. Rolling her eyes, she pulls her hand away from his and digs her fingers lightly into his stomach, scraping her nails on the ridge of his abdominal muscles.

"You're not dying. Your vitals are strong and the fact that you're not talking like you're drunk shows clear signs of improvement on your health."

Bucky sighs, and pulls out the big guns,  "look, I've had a traumatic day, a bomb exploded on me and I almost died. And you see, Darce here, almost got a heart attack tearin' me a new one," he pauses, "could ya please just let my girl stay with me for the rest of the night?"

He puts on earnest eyes.

The nurse blinks.

Bucky smiles innocently.

The nurse sighs this time and clicks her tongue.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Fine," she shoves a stern finger in front Bucky's face, "But if there is any funny business, I will not hesitate to kick her out, okay?"

"Aye, scout's honor." Bucky gives her a two finger salute and smiles victoriously, the smile lines on his face making him look boyish. The nurse nods, adjusts something in his IV and leaves, muttering about the 'damn Avengers' and how 'she doesn't get paid enough'.

Darcy tsks and flicks his nose once the door closes. He wrinkles it and she palms his face.

"You are such a shit disturber."

A satisfied slow grin blooms on his lips, a small flame licking at the base of her spine at that look. And then it flames even brighter when he tilts to the side and kisses her palm.

"I know. But it got you to stay, didn't it?"

She closes her eyes and sighs, defeated. Sometimes, he was such a child. He laughs and she hears the bedsheets ruffling as he leans closer, enveloping them both with his weight and scent.

"Good morning, Miss. Lewis."

The rasp of his growing stubble scratches her face as he nuzzles her chin and she knows that she'll have one hell of a stubble burn. But neither she or Bucky cares as he continues at her tiny squeal, she bats him away.

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes." she replies, playing their game. "How are you feeling now?" she asks.

He shuts his eyes, either from exhaustion or the question, she doesn't know. Skimming her waist, he cups the back of her head and pulls her forehead to rest on his chin.

"Better?" she prompts.

He mumbles something that resembles a 'no'  and before she can question it or has any time to  know it, he wraps an arm around her waist and flips them.

"What are you doing?" she laughs, eyes travelling his naked chest, mindful and taking inventory of any pains or discomfort. She sits on top of his stomach, hovering with her legs on the side of his waist.

"Well," he gives a lazy smile, "Nurse Ratchet there said no foul play." he grasps her hips and sits her down more firmly, "and since the morphine wears off quick for me, I'm gonna be in a lot of pain."

Darcy smiles and shakes her head fondly, knowing where this was going.

"So, I was hoping for more of an alternative treatment." he says and he rises up on his elbows. She meets him halfway and kisses him soundly.

"What does this alternative treatment entail?"

He grins as he kisses her in small pecks and his hand rises up and twists her hair from her neck. Reaching down, she cups his ribs and then reach to his abdomen where he groans. He pulls her tighter, sliding up so she slips down on his crotch and she makes a keening sound as he jerks up helplessly to her.

"Well," he slides his long calloused fingers up her spine, making her stomach drop and toes curl, "it's more of an oral treatment," he continues feathering light kisses on her cheek then to her ear, "An experimental treatment, real-"

She swallows the rest of his sentence in her lips, reaching down and grasping his wrist in hers. His pulse is pounding, from under her fingertips and the machine that is hooked onto him beeps urgently.

"Wait-" she pulls her lips from his, he doesn't mind as he trails kisses from her mouth to her chin and then her jaw and neck. She moans and then bites her lip to keep quiet, unsure if the nurse would come bowling in if she was too loud. He bites down on her hard and she gasps, feeling liquid heat pool down. 

"The machine!" she gasps and he rips the wires that connect him to the heart rate monitor in response, the beeping stops and he angles her face so he can deepen the kiss with deliberate strokes against hers. There's definitely a technique in there because she gasps at the reminder of his heat and arches up, wanting to purr like a cat under his touch.   

"Wait-" she tries again and then loses her momentum when he pushes a scroching kiss on her neck, "hey-"  she pulls his head away from her by a soft hold of his hair. He looks up o her, smirking smugly at the reddening mark on her neck. She rolls her eyes at the stupid masculine pride. 

"I don't think this is a good idea right now."

He squints at her, because she's the one that regularly found places for them to have sex in the busy recesses of Stark tower. And there's nothing Darcy likes more than sex. Well, maybe chocolate. 

She sees the question in his eyes, "You're kind of half dying right now. And I'm not sure if I want to uh, break you even more." she brushes a finger over his bandaged eye. He leans in to her touch.

"I told you I'm half alive." he smirks wickedly and she raises her right eyebrow in return, her expression harsher with doubt and concern than his intense lust filled one. Apparently, that's enough of an argument for him and he leans forward to continue his ministrations. She follows his example, but leans back, with only his hands braced on her waist and trailing enticingly on her back.

Pulling her hand from around his neck, she puts a finger on his lips.

"Normally, I would definitely condone sex in a public place. But-" it's a little mean, but she presses hard on a blossoming bruise on the left side of his ribs to prove her point. She watches his reaction, he doesn't flinch but she watches for the wince-and oh, there it is.

Knowing that he proved her point, he scrambles to keep her where she is, "you wouldn't break me. Come on." she doesn't know how he does it, but somehow he makes the bandaged eye and the messy hair seductive. It's a very strategic play on her normally good senses. He blinks, wide eyed, the same puppy eyed look and the warm hand on her back trails under her shirt and hungrily touches any part of skin that he can. Blinking three times, he asks for permission and Darcy sighs softly before nodding. If he showed one sign of keeling over and dying, she's stopping. For real. Pressing down, he groans softly and grinds up hard and hot.

She tugs on his hair and that results in a rough squeeze of her breast. He kisses her again, this time a distraction as he strips her of her lightweight sweater. The sweater tugs on her hair and becomes staticky. Left in a black and lacy bra, she shivers with goose flesh litter her skin. He rocks up once and stares at her breasts and she almost giggles at the reverence in the look.

 _"Goddamn,_ Darce." he leans in and kisses between her breasts and works her hooks of her bra, "I've missed you."

This startles a laugh from her but then turns to a gasp and a sigh, " I've missed you too."

He puts his mouth in good use and she thinks she's going into a state of nirvana soon if he doesn't take off her pants. She sighs happily and caresses his back muscles lazily, liking this slow dance they have going on. With her arms around his back, she feels his groans more than she hears it. He leans forward, pushing her down and she opens her eyes to see a flash of blue before he has her settled down to imprint a series of biting kisses along her collarbone. Squeezing her eyes together, she whimpers as he tilts her neck and finds a particularly sensitive spot around her clavicle. She winds her legs around his waist, shifting her weight to accommodate him.

He flinches.

Darcy froze. The pleasurable haze she was under suddenly shatters at his jerk of pain. She opens her eyes and pushes him off and then the polyester blanket to see red seeping through the thigh of the blue cotton of the right side of his pants. She gasps and hurries off of him like she's been zapped.

"Okay, now we're stopping." she wipes her hair from her face and retrieves the shirt that has fallen off the bed.

"Aw, Darcy, it's not a big deal."

Once sharp glance is all it takes to shut him up. She puts her shirt back on. Pressing the call button on his bedside, she brushes her hair as neatly as she can and flips her hair to the front so it can cover whatever marks he left on her body. He pouts as she comes closer and she can't resist to kiss his lips. He takes advantage,  _again_ , pulling her up using his god like strength and settling her on top of him.

The click of the lock is all the warning she needs before she slips off the bed.

"Be good." she hisses the moment her feet touch the ground and escapes to the bathroom. He glares at her and she gives him a sunny smile when the nurse walks in. 

She can hear him trying to ween off the nurse from redressing his wound as she does her business and washes her hands. Pulling off a few sheets of paper towel, she wipes her hands and face. She stares at her reflection, bright under the florescent lights and catalogs any differences she sees. They've been together for almost a year now. Her and Bucky. Bucky and her. Over a year and so many things have happened since then. Mostly good. Some bad, but mostly good. And she's not gonna lie, she's thankful for whatever cosmic god that had bestowed her with the luck she's been facing. Whatever she has done in her past life had racked up points for her karmic life and she hopes that it doesn't evaporate soon. She feels lucky, a midst the terror and the horror of the world to find him.

Chucking the paper towels into the garbage, she opens the door. Bucky's on his side, facing her and petting the bed with the underlying message clear to even a blind man. She rolls her eyes but climbs on anyway, his arms ready to bring her back to his chest. She notices that he's wearing a new pair of hospital regulated pants and he's breathing steady, but slower.

“Did the nurse drug you?”

“Yeah, said something about pain and controlling myself.”

She snickers, his self control concerning sex was almost non existent, having been caught many times due to his inability to control his own noises, “She probably heard you.”

“Probably heard you.” He retorts, his voice garbling.

He's warm and drowsy and rubbing his calloused fingers under her shirt on the softness of her belly making her toes curl pleasurably. Combined with the comforting weight and rhythmic tick of the clock, her body feels heavier and she's in limbo, sleepy but conscious enough to notice movements.

"I'm not getting laid, am I?" he mutters.

“How about you feel better first and then we can do whatever dirty thing you want me to do.” She suggests.

He twitches behind her, but his voice is riddled with unholy glee, “really? Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want, sergeant,” she promises.

“Good, cause I got you this very sexy lingerie set before the mission. Full deal. Lapdance. Strip tease.”

From the low timbre of his voice, she knows that the moment they leave the medical wing, they won't be leaving his room any time soon.

“Sexy music?” she teases.

“Yeah, don't think I won't notice if you skimp out on the details. I'll be taking it off with my teeth.”

She laughs, lifting his hand to her lips. She places a soft kiss on the top. It's a little sweaty under his arm, his body heat like a year round furnace. She doesn't care.

"I'm glad you're alive." she whispers.

His arm flexes, showing her that he wasn't unaffected by her words.

"Me too."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: plannedserviceinterruption


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